I wish Amanda would stop pushing me! Okay, so she thinks a blog would be a good vent for my writing, but how many times do I have to tell her I need to think about it. She’d have some aggravating comeback if I told her even the thought of it totally intimidates me. The technological intricacies of setting the thing up would be bad enough, but I could wing my way through that. But routinely sharing of myself - now that frightens me! I’m a private person – have always been a private person. Do I really want to share my thoughts with the world - give the world access to my thoughts? Ugh...but...maybe I could share a few of my poems. Would anyone even read them? Poems are a dime a dozen. Hmm, maybe I could invite a few people in to read some of them by sharing a little of my life journey. But could I possibly write about my life without getting too personal - maybe. I really should give that a try before entertaining this blog idea any further. Hmm...let me see how I can capsulate my life and still feel private.

When I was young, I thought if I ran fast enough I could get somewhere in this world, but I was like the legs of the whirly-gig farmer that runs with the wind but gets nowhere. And getting nowhere finally made me take stock and see that what I was chasing always left me longing, like an empty sea shell held to my ear, miles from the real ocean.

So I finally slowed down my pace enough to glimpse faith, anxiously waving at me from behind my ambition’s shadow. I pushed ambition out of the way and saw faith sitting God’s table, and I asked to sit. I hungered for what was before me, sick at the realization that what I had been feeding on was like dirty dog bones stripped of marrow. I needed nourishment…and I was fed. Then taught not to run, taught how to walk, then how to crawl and finally how to be still...and hear the whisper of God. Then I was sent on my journey.

I finally made my way to my home here; on this quiet mountainside; where I often shut out the world like a lover drawing a shade. For there is so much disappointment and evil in the world these days, so many lost souls still running nowhere fast, yet they won’t listen and I often weep at their sheer number. If only they would see, a thousand wars or a trillion dollars or winning every race can’t buy a moment of eternity or let you taste the truest taste of love. I have often cried out these feelings in the words of my poems. Hidden words, suffocating for years inside unopened journals, stored away in dark compartments of my computer.

Some call me old fashioned, many think the tune I try to weave within my rhymes is old and a myth! But the music of God’s love within me is ageless; its truth abides forever. I can only imagine immersing in it when freed of this flawed body. I wait for that moment of rapture; like a note; waiting to join the song...

Oh wow, this is hard! Why would anyone care about me or my journey anyway? But I wouldn’t want them to read because of me, but because of Him! I need to show them that!

But while I wait for that blessed moment to be in perfect harmony with Him in eternity; I need to occupy here. So I thought I’d invite folks in to read a few of my poems and I pray in the reading, someone might see beyond the dust of my words, see why I am compelled to write of His glory and just maybe offer a little glimpse of God’s table, that I saw so many years ago.

Maybe, I COULD actually pull this blog thing off. But could I really offer some of my poems? The ones where I felt my heart bleeding upon every line? The ones where I felt like the tiniest of dots in the universe? The ones where God picked me up from my shame? Could I - if God asked? I will tell Amanda tomorrow I still have to think about this blog thing. And I’d Better Lean On God for direction!

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